dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #24

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open September 24th, and apps are open October 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.

Two quick points here as well:
1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: TITAN TERRORS
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

In this case, the monster behind you may as well be the monster above you. No, not anything flying overhead, but the freakishly giant nude monsters hellbent on shoving your crunchy body into their mouths and chowing down.

Titans are large humanlike creatures who have superior strength, though more limited intelligence. Much like zombies, they desire only to devour all of the humans in their vicinity and will use any tools at their disposal to do so. Get your steel guitars ready and get pumped, because sie sind das essen und wir sind die jager!!!]

R A G E

SCENARIO TWO: PAINTBALL ROYALE
[You've got a gun.

Okay, it's not a real gun- it's actually a paintball gun, which seems to knock people unconscious when you hit them. That's a pretty sweet deal! Except, you really want to be the last one standing, and you'll knock out countless people to do it. Every fight feels like life or death, whether you're waiting in the shadows to get the drop on someone or spraying paint all across the open streets in the fain hopes that you might get a tag or two.

Either way, if you lose, you'll find yourself waking up in a party! That's not so bad, right? It's a giant gathering of all the paint-covered losers in the city, with free food and drinks and a distribution of excellent prizes. What did you win? Fight your friends, but not in the dark and trauma-y way, and be the next winner of our Hadriel death (not really) match!

This is a mini version of our Party Royale event this month.]

C O N F U S I O N

SCENARIO THREE: WALK WALK FASHION BABY
[Your trusty leather jacket is gone. So are your worn and torn jeans, all your summer dresses, your boots and high tops and heels. Suddenly, nothing is where you expect it to be, not even that load of clothes that you've left in the laundry for the past few weeks (oops). In the stead of all of your beloved duds, you find some stuff that... might be a little questionable.

Whether you were the lucky recipient of the hand shawl, the face skirt, the suspender sweats or some other wild atrocity, you'll be sure to have some fun trying to maneuver around the city in your weird, cumbersome outfits. At least you don't look as silly as that guy over there in the sea urchin costume!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All told, the Alpha A.I. runs the full gamut of human emotions in about two minutes.

He surpasses triumph - fuck yes, eat a goddamn dick you Meta asshole, ghosts top A.I.s any damn day of the week - coasts along the breezy waters of de'nile - jesus christ is he dead? - slams right the fuck into panic - oh god he's fucking dead - and proceeds to crash headlong into the kind of exhausted apathy that so sustained him in his days at Blood Gulch. If he's dead, fantastic. If he's not, who gives a shit.

The important thing here is that Agent goddamn Washington is walking around in the middle of a party like he's expecting to get jumped any second. Mr. Paranoid over here - not that Church can fault him, given the fact that he's gotten a real good, horrifying look at the manifold issues Wash has got bouncing around in that noggin of his.

God, it feels good to have a body of his own again. Real convenient, too.

And so it is that Agent Washington gets an egg salad sandwich splatting across his helmet visor. The hydrophobic material will probably wick away the worst of it, but that doesn't mean Church isn't gonna enjoy picturing the look of dumbfounded exhaustion that he's assuming lies underneath.

"Party on, asshole!"

Yeah, Wash didn't see the egg salad coming in a crowd of partiers -- there may in fact be just the expression that Church is picturing under the visor. Why does he have to put up with this shit?

He recognizes that voice, though, and lifts a hand to wipe away the mayo smeared on his helmet and get a good look at the guy who threw it. The guy who isn't supposed to have a body with which to throw sandwiches in the first place. Possibly the guy who Wash got killed. Whether it's Alpha or Epsilon, Wash addresses him the same way.

"Church? What are you doing here?"

"Uh, partying." What part of party on, asshole was unclear to this fucker, exactly? Without missing a beat, Church zeroes in on the most important part of this situation - "Hey, you think robot bodies can get drunk? 'Cause I kinda wanna find out."

He wants to get wasted in celebration of his apparent survival of that EMP blast. Or, if that's not what actually happened at all, in celebration of his apparent welcoming into goddamn Valhalla.

"They can't. But it doesn't look like that body's a robot..."

He's not gonna step forward and poke him to see if he's fleshy or not. He's not.

Okay he totally is.

This is too weird. Because that is most certainly a human body he just poked.

"Well I think you can go ahead and drink, if you wanted." He lifts a hand to his helmet as if to hold his head to make sense of this. Was he implanted in another host? "Turn around, let me see your neck."

Hey, what the hell, dude? Church is squinting at him beneath his helmet, but he's also, fortunately, still riding that wave of euphoric don't-give-a-shit that comes from not-dying or possibly dying and being transported to the sweetest afterlife of all time.

For a minute he wants to be the petulant asshole he totally is, but he's also one of the few people who can say he's seen the inside of Wash's head, meaning there's kind of this level of weird trust there that, if he's honest, he'd really prefer not to go examining anytime soon.

So he shrugs, yanks off his helmet, unsuccessfully tries to smooth down his stick-nest mat of black helmet hair with the palm of one hand, and turns around.

"Sure. Whatever, dude."

Wash doesn't recognize Church's face, but why would he? And then he takes a look and sure enough, there's the gleam of an implant at the base of Church's skull. That explains that. Poor schmuck that used to be in there before the implantation... he's probably gone for good.

"Yeah, looks like you're human for now. Drink away. Enjoy your hangover, bet it's been awhile since you had one of those."

"You think hangovers are bad?" Church snorts, knocking back a shot of something or another. He doesn't really give a shit, in the endgame. It burns going down, which is exactly what he was aiming for. "Try waking up after an emp blast, motherfucker."

Except, oh wait. You don't wake up at all.

Hilarious.

"...did it hurt? When you woke up here, I mean. Or I guess the blast itself, too?" He hadn't thought of that. He'd just thought... the AIs would be there one moment and gone the next. Not that it would have caused them any pain.

"Yeah, can we not discuss the details of my dramatic sacrifice?" It's possible he's bullshitting here. Extremely probable, in fact. But he's already twisting off the cap of a bottle of something alcoholic - or failing to, since it's not actually a twist-off bottle - and, when that inevitably doesn't work, casting about in search for a fucking bottle opener.

"I mean, unless...hey, you didn't kick it too, did you?"

He kinda figured he would, to be honest. I'm sorry, did something about my actions indicate that I expect to survive? and so on and so forth.

Whoops. Wash has never been great at tact, he's just curious.

"...I might have. Last thing I remember is a pretty epic firefight with some mantises. And this does seem a lot like hell, doesn't it?"

At least it had when he woke up here, and was chased by monsters. Except now they're... at a party. Wash stretches out a hand for the bottle; let him try.

"Mantises? Jesus, man, what the fuck kind of shit was left after that emp?" And yeah, he's definitely pronouncing it emp, like an asshole. That's how it's pronounced. Suck his balls.

It's also possible, nay, extremely probable, that he has no idea there was even an after once he gave his digital life to buy Wash a bit more time. Like a self-sacrificing piece of shit.

Fuck yeah.

"Actually... it's been a few years since the EMP." Deliberately pronounced E M P. "I was on a planet called Chorus. They were tricked into a civil war by a corporation called Charon, that's who we were fighting. Freelancer is dead."

Except for him and Carolina. It's all on their shoulders now.

Test Drive Meme #24

paintball royale motherfucker

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